"Come help me...!" Y/N ushers the doctor over.
A couple of men lift Jack since Y/N can't, and she calls George Augustine over.
Her cousin comes running and she quickly tells him, "Send for my father! Tell him Jack's collapsed...!"
Augustine stares at his unconscious step-cousin for a moment before nodding and hurrying off.
The pain in her shoulder hadn't subsided.
She must have opened her stitches.
Y/N scurries to her feet and follows the men taking her brother.
They lay him down in an empty bed in Jack's tent (though, she did have to pull the "General's stepson" card).
"You shouldn't be in here, General. Not in your state," the doctor doesn't look up, instead choosing to focus on Jack.
"I am perfectly well, doctor, thank you," she mutters, sitting down in a chair next to her brother's bed.
"How long has he been ill?"
"A couple of days. He came here briefly and told me he was getting better. Of course, I didn't believe it, but..." she sighs.
"He didn't want to go home."
A nurse rests a damp towel on Jack's forehead and the doctor looks up.
"And this rate, ma'am... there's not much else we can do here. At this point, he needs to go home, General. That's what will be best for his health," the doctor tells her.
"General... you're bleedin'," one of the men says.
"Leave it," Y/N waves him off.
The doctor finally looks up, "Bleeding?"
Y/N meets his eye before shaking her head, "My stitches popped when I caught Jack falling. I'm fine, Doctor, worry about him."
"I am. There's nothing more I can do. I've fresh water for him to drink and I'll bleed him when he's conscious. Are there any other symptoms you know your brother has, General?"
"Fever. Cramps. Chills," she holds up a finger for each before pausing to think.
"He's been sweating heavily and he's thinner. A lot thinner. He's malnourished. He hasn't been able to keep food down."
The doctor pulls away from Jack before going to grab his bag.
"You know just as well as I do what that sounds like, General," he dips his hands in a water basin to scrub the dirt off.
He dries his hands quickly before making his way to Y/N's side, "Sit."
"And remove your coat," he adds.
Y/N nods, quickly removing her blue coat and unbuttoning her waistcoat.
She glances up at the men that had helped carry Jacky.
"Scram. Stay outside. Call for me if you see His Excellency on his way."
They salute before heading out.
She removes her waistcoat, folding it and placing it on the bed on top of her coat.
Y/N sits down just as she removes her cravat.
The doctor uses a finger to hook the collar of her shirt and carefully pull it down to expose the stitches.
"This is going to hurt, General," he warns.
She nods once, moving her hair out of the way.
He removes the stitches carefully.
It surprisingly doesn't hurt as much as it did putting them in.
He pulls away and Y/N lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Hold on. I'm not done," he stops her from moving.
"No wonder it didn't hurt," she mutters.
The nurse hands her a bottle of rum, "We didn't have any the other day because of the wounded from the redoubts, but we just got some fresh from our allies. Should take the edge off."
"Thank you," she murmurs, raising the open bottle to her lips and quickly taking a big sip.
"Not getting shot would also take the edge off," the doctor quips.
"Mm, I can't really help that, Doctor."
She grunts in pain when she feels him begin stitching her wound again.
The bottle finds its way back to her lips.
She uses her free hand to grip the side of the bed before wincing at the pain in her shoulder and letting go.
"General...!" she hears just before she cries out. "His Excellency's here."
She doesn't respond, but the soldier takes the hint and leaves, passing by General Washington and saluting to him.
"Y/N-" George's eyes widen before he catches a glimpse of Jack.
He stays silent a moment, "Dear God..."
Y/N doesn't look up at him, resting her forehead against the bed.
Y/N blinks away her tears when the doctor finally pulls away.
Her father was at her side, but, thankfully, was more focused on Jack.
She takes a moment to ground herself, forcing the pain down.
The nurse comes by, tenderly beginning to wrap her wound.
"Wrap her arm as well. If she doesn't move it, she's less likely to pull them again," the doctor orders.
Y/N stares blankly at an empty part of the tent.
"General?" the doctor calls.
She takes a long moment, but her eyes slowly make their way to him.
"Are you feeling well?"
She frowns, wincing when the nurse bends her arm to her chest.
"As well as I can be..."
She uses her free hand to rub her eyes before turning to her father, "Your Excellency. I'm sorry. I sent for you as soon as he collapsed. I-"
"None of that. You did what anyone would have done. You did good. What's wrong with him, doctor?" George looks up from where he was taking his son's appearance in.
The doctor purses his lips, adjusting his glasses.
"As I told General Washington..." he gestures to Y/N.
"... who told me of his symptoms outside of the physical. Nausea, fatigue, malnourishment... I am forced to conclude that Mr. Custis has camp fever, Your Excellency."
George turns back to the unconscious Jack and takes his hand.
Camp fever had spread like wildfire in camp. Nobody seemed safe.
How could he have let his children anywhere near this battle?
How could he have ever approved? They both had small children. Jacky's eldest daughter was barely five years old.
He knew the conditions of his camp. The disease, the lack of resources, the horrid housing conditions... he knew it all.
George takes a deep breath before asking, "What now, then, doctor?"
"He goes home, Sir. That would be the best for him. He will most likely recover."
George nods once, head hanging.
Y/N slowly places a hand on her father's back before looking up at the doctor and nurse.
"Thank you," she whispers, "but do you think you could leave us for a minute...?"
"Of course, General," he nods, "Your Excellency."
The commander doesn't respond.
Y/N rubs George's back softly and leans down slightly, whispering, "What now, Pappa...?"
George runs a hand down his face.
He seemed... older. His hair was grayer than before, with only small bits of the reddish-brown that Y/N knew to be his true hair color. His face now carried wrinkles along his forehead and chin, along with the pox scars that he'd had since he was a young adult.
Y/N sighs sadly before wrapping an arm around her father's head and pulling him into her embrace. She places a soft kiss to the top of his head.
"Are you alright...?" he asks quietly, his cheek resting against his daughter's chest.
"I'm fine, Pappa," she murmurs, running her fingers through his hair. "I'm okay..."
》》》》》》
October 17, 1781
Y/N runs through the Allied Forces camp, brushing aside her healing shoulder, to where her father was overlooking the trenches.
She'd heard the news.
Earlier in the morning... a young man in a redcoat stood on a parapet.
He was supposedly waving a white handkerchief.
"General Washington, slow down!" Hamilton warns when she nearly tramples him.
She glances over her shoulder, calling back, "I apologize, Colonel! I've just heard excellent news!"
Alexander cocks an eyebrow from where he was next to Major Tallmadge, quietly discussing the current intelligence situation.
"Excellent news?" Tallmadge questions, watching Y/N disappear among the men.
Alexander, just as confused, shakes his head and shrugs.
Then, they both stop and their eyes snap towards one another's.
"Does she mean...?"
"I believe so..."
Y/N takes a moment to catch her breath once she reaches the tent.
She fixes her hair and straightens her uniform before walking in.
A handful of American and French high-ranking officers crowd around something Y/N can't see.
She stands up on her tip-toes and moves around in an attempt to catch a glimpse.
She just sees a bit of red.
Major Tallmadge and Colonel Hamilton arrive a short while after her.
Y/N looks around, noting that her father was nowhere in sight.
That meant...
She walks around the room, eyes widening when she's finally able to take in the blindfolded Redcoat.
The room falls silent after Lincoln calls for them to quiet down.
"As many of you have undoubtedly heard... the enemy has waved a white flag. The terms of surrender are to begin being discussed tomorrow at the Moore House, represented by Colonel Laurens and the Marquis de Noailles," he announces.
The room bursts into cheers and applause.
Y/N happily claps along, turning to Alexander and Benjamin with a small smile on her face.
Tallmadge returns it before bowing his head.
Y/N does the same.
Alexander winks subtly, lips quirked up as he claps.
Y/N brushes past them as she heads to the exit, murmuring, "My deepest apologies, gentlemen. I must go see His Excellency."
"Of course, General," they both say in unisom before sharing a glance.
Y/N leaves and Tallmadge fully turns to the ginger.
"Apologies for my intrusion, Colonel Hamilton..." he begins.
Alexander raises an eyebrow, side glancing at him.
"... but I heard that her brother has fallen ill with camp fever."
Hamilton purses his lips, "Mr. Custis. Yes. I believe that he is to be sent home as soon as possible. Most likely tomorrow."
Bemjamin nods slowly, "Send them my regards, will you...?"
"Of course."
》》》》》》
"Wait... pardon..." Y/N interrupts her father.
"Jacky will be staying with Uncle Burwell and little Fanny? I thought they lived in Eltham."
A/N: A small town west of West Point, VA. About 30-40 minute drive (approximately 3 or so hours on horse). Also, Colonel Burwell Bassett, Sr was married to Martha Washington (née Dandridge)'s younger sister, Anna Marie. So they're Jacky and Y/N's aunt and uncle on their mother's side.
Edited: Anna Maria died Dec. 17, 1777 and I didn't know until a few days after the publication of this chapter. Instead, Frances "Fanny' Bassett was their daughter (who was about 13-14 years old at the time).
"They do. But their is much closer than Mount Vernon. I've already sent word to your uncle. And your mother and Nelly as well. If all goes well, we shall receive word from Colonel Bassett by tonight. The latest, tomorrow morning," George explains.
Y/N nods slowly.
There's a long pause before she runs a hand down her face, "Have you been by to see Jack?"
George looks up, "Not today, no. I was meaning to go as soon as I fixed up these orders for the meeting of the terms of surrender."
"Have you?"
Y/N shakes her head.
"I was on my way when I heard of the surrender."
George puts his quill in the inkwell and removes his spectacles, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"How could I have been so... foolish?"
Y/N looks up at him. His head was hanging, his face in his hands.
She looks at her father's spectacles.
The one's he had been trying so hard to hide from everyone, including herself.
She had noticed that her father's vision had gotten worse, with him squinting and every now and then asking her to read him his correspondence under the guise that his eyes were tired.
A/N: I'd believe it tho. It could be 2 pm for me and my eyes'll be so tired that my eyesight gets blurry 😞 and that's on astigmatism :)
She had suspected he needed spectacles. But never once thought he actually used them.
And then she remembers... her father was just a few short months from his 50th birthday.
She forgets that his graying hair had cause to be there.
Y/N stands, leaning forward slightly and cupping her father's cheek.
He looks up at her, tears in his eyes and bottom lip quivering slightly.
"Oh, Pappa..." she whispers, going around the desk and pulling him into an embrace. "I understand how you feel... but it isn't your fault at all. Jacky knows that."
"I knew the conditions of camp-"
"As did he."
"No, Y/N, he did not. How could he have known? He's never seen a trench first hand...!"
"That doesn't change anything, Pappa. He knew of the diseases. He knew of the danger. Besides... I was the one who convinced him to come along..."
George slowly looks up at his daughter and just shakes his head silently.
He wraps an arm around her mid back and whispers, "I haven't felt like this in a long time... Not since..."
Y/N knows what he's going to say.
"... Not since Patsy passed. Not since you had the pox. I haven't felt this... terrified... in such a long time, Y/N."
"I know..."
A/N: I'm rewatching Season 2, Episode 8 of Turn; Washington's Spies and one of my favorite things is that when Lafayette returns, he greets Washington with a kiss on each cheek. Then, he delivers the news that King Louis XVI is signing a treaty to join America. And it skips to the celebrations at night and Washington then greets Lafayette with a kiss on either cheek. This man is the same man that hated when people would touch him. Testament to their relationship.
Y/N runs her fingers through her father's hair. She knew that calmed him more than anything else and often saw her mother (and when she was younger, sometimes Patsy) doing it to him.
She massages his scalp, and he closes his eyes, leaning into her abdomen.
"Everything will be alright, Father. God will look out for Jacky," she tells him.
"I know," he murmurs, "I just..."
"That's my son... just as much as Daniel Parke Custis'. And I worry for him. I've worried for him since he was a toddling little boy who could speak but not three words. I worried for him over every bump and scrape he got from the games he would play with you and Patsy. I would tuck him in with the two of you and tell him stories about my time as a Colonial soldier."
"I worried for him when he got engaged to Nelly so young. And when Patsy died... I was scared for what he would do. What he was feeling. I worried for him and his little family when he purchased the Abingdon Estate. He's..."
George pulls away from his daughter and looks up into her eyes.
"He's a month short of turning 27... but he's still my little boy."
Y/N feels her eyes water at the sign of affection.
Their father was strict, but doting, their whole childhood. Especially toward Jacky, who never liked sticking to his studies, despite being the last of his family.
At the same time, their father was stoic. Y/N could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him cry. The first time she ever truly saw him angry was Monmouth (because the times she heard him yell or was even yelled at herself was purely because of his short temper. He'd never actually been... furious).
Y/N nods slowly, "I know, Pappa... and he does, too..."
George leans into his daughter's embrace and closes his eyes once more.
After a moment, Y/N looks back to his desk, "Will you... get back to your paperwork?"
George pulls away, rubbing his eyes before grabbing his spectacles.
He stares at them for a moment before shaking his head. He puts them away, where no one will find them, and stands.
"That can wait. The terms haven't even been set. I need to go see my son."
Y/N smiles slightly, hand on his shoulder.
》》》》》》
2 PM, October 19, 1781
Y/N tugs on Eclipse's reigns, coming to a stop on her father's right.
Benjamin Lincoln, his second-in-command, was to his left.
The men stood behind them in orderly lines. She catches a glimpse of Alexander, standing tall next to Laurens, Tilghman, Tallmadge and Brewster.
She then looks over to her father, who sat straight on Blueskin.
Y/N looks down, petting her steed with a small smile on her face.
They'd done wonderfully.
She reaches forward with a wince. Her father turns his head slightly to look at her.
She grabs the reigns and raises her head to study their allies.
The French stood in rows about 50 or 60 feet in front of them.
Rochambeau sat on his horse in front of them with a few officers to his sides as well.
They hear the drums before they see the lobsterbacks.
Y/N smiles to herself.
The terms of surrender were negotiated yesterday.
Lord Cornwallis asked for the traditional honors of war. He asked for the British to be allowed to march with their flags, bayonets fixed, and playing an American or French tune (though they probably would have played a French one seeing as how they still did not recognize America as its own country).
They asked for the same bloody honors that Cornwallis denied General Lincoln almost a year and a half earlier at the Siege of Charleston.
They captured almost 5,500 men, had them march with their muskets shouldered, and surrender their colors.
His Excellency hadn't even given it a second thought.
He simply told Cornwallis, 'The same Honors will be granted to the Surrendering Army as were granted to the Garrison of Charles Town.'
A/N: Actual quote from G.Wash to Cornwallis.
Y/N watches as the Redcoats begin marching closer.
Both sides had signed the Articles of Capitulation earlier today.
She had been there when it arrived from Yorktown, where the terms set by the Franco-American Alliance were written.
They had sent it to the town, to Cornwallis, that morning.
She had scanned through the fourteen articles quickly before coming to a stop at the end.
It read:
'Done at Yorktown, in Virginia, October 19th, 1781.'
And below it was the signature that they had been hoping for.
'Cornwallis.'
She hadn't even read the second signature there.
Hell, what did it matter? They'd gotten the big one!
Y/N watched as her father wrote, 'Done in the Trenches before Yorktown, in Virginia, October 19th, 1781.'
And she was one of the many who cheered when he signed his name.
Then the Comte de Rochambeau signed. Followed by the Comte de Barras and the Comte de Grasse.
And now, she watched as they marched through, flags furled, muskets shouldered, heads practically hanging.
She recognized the tune.
Y/N smiles to herself yet again.
The World Turn'd Upside Down.
"How does it go...?" she asks quietly enough that only her father to her left and the men down on the ground to her right hear.
"... Yet let's be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn'd upside down..." she sings softly.
The corners of her father's lips curl upwards ever so slightly.
Lord Cornwallis is nowhere to be seen.
The line stops marching when they reach General Washington.
A single man stands ahead, his scabbard removed from his baldric.
His sheathed sword was in his hands.
The Redcoat turns to his right, facing the Comte de Rochambeau and holding up the sword slightly.
Washington watches silently and Y/N frowns.
Damned cowards.
Rochambeau doesn't accept it.
He simply shakes his head and points to General Washington.
Y/N tugs on Eclipse's reigns slightly and the horse backs up a few steps.
The man - a general, Y/N had come to realize - turns slowly, a scowl on his face.
It's there only a moment before he becomes stoic once more.
He presents the sword by holding it up slightly.
Washington looks down at him for a moment.
"Is it the habit of General Cornwallis not to attend an official surrender?" he questions.
"I'm afraid the general has fallen ill. He sends his deepest apologies," the man states.
Y/N resists the urge to scoff.
Right.
General Washington looks down at the sword a moment before saying, "Nearly four years ago to this day, General Gates accepted General Burgoyne's sword at Saratoga."
"Today, the American and French alliance is honored to accept yours," he nods.
The British general begins stepping forward, but Washington holds a hand up.
He shakes his head.
He gestures to his left to General Lincoln.
Lincoln turns to his commander, who nods at him.
He rides forward slowly, stopping in front of the British general.
The man looks down at his sword a moment before looking up at General Lincoln's outstretched hands.
He holds it out, placing it in his hands.
Lincoln backs up to the line again and the British general turns to face the front once more.
The two Redcoats carrying their flags march forward about 10 feet until they meet the two American soldiers at the end.
They surrender their colors, neatly rolled up, and the two men march back into line next to Lafayette, who was on top of his own horse.
"Forward, march!" the British general calls.
Y/N turns to Alexander when they begin moving.
He has the same thought, looking up at his wife.
They share a smile, knowing that this battle was by far one if their biggest accomplishments in the war.
Y/N turns back to see the piles of muskets the British are making.
Most of them are throwing them down harshly, most likely trying to smash them.
She's about to speak up when the British general gets after the men, who immediately change their behavior.
She feels an odd sense of satisfaction when she catches some men weeping at their loss.
Or perhaps they were crying over their uncertain future as prisoners of war.
In any case, it was nice to be on the opposite side of a surrender for the first time in a while.
》》》》》》
Y/N quietly shuffles around the room, careful not to make too much noise.
Jacky was sleeping off his illness.
She had come to sit and tell him the news (even though he probably couldn't tell up from down in his state), but had found that she had a report to write over their successful siege.
She grabs the parchment and sits down.
Y/N smooths it out and can't help the large grin on her face as she begins writing.
A few minutes in, she hears a raspy voice say, "That look on your face... tells me thst you either... made up with Alexander or..."
Jack clears his throat weakly, "... Or there's good... good news from the trenches..."
"You missed quite a lot. Pappa asked me not to give you too much excting news at once so... I just kept it entirely to myself," she turns in her chair.
"Has Pappa been by...?"
"Yes. A lot."
Y/N sighs softly, "He blames himself... for you falling ill."
"Mm," he groans, closing his eyes, "that's up to God."
"I know. He does, too."
Jack opens an eye, taking in his little sister's appearance.
"You... haven't slept," he mumbles.
"I have. Just not yesterday night. Far too exciting."
"You need sleep... Pappa does too..." Jack turns his head slightly to look at her. "And you both... need to stop blaming yourselves..."
"I chose to be here. I knew what I was getting into."
"I know..." she whispers, running a hand down her face.
"Good..."
There's a small pause before he asks, "Now what's this news you keep mentioning...?"
Y/N licks her lips before pursing them. She grins.
"We captured Redoubts 9 and 10 on the 14th as planned."
"Mm, I was awake for that..." he mumbles.
"Hush. And the next day, Father had us set up artillery. Well... not me. I had been injured in the battle-"
"Therefore... Pappa saw it fit to decommission you... for a moment out of his fatherly love," he teases.
She rolls her eyes, "And you remember how he had somewhat demoted me until either the surrender or his say so?"
"Oh... that's what this is about. I suppose you getting shot was enough for him to once again be reminded of your loyalty to the cause?" he asks.
Y/N's smile falters for a moment, "No... actually..."
She grins widely nonetheless, "No, Jacky..."
"The British surrendered! They waved the white flag the 17th and formally surrendered earlier today."
"Oh, God..." he whispers, a small, frail smile on his face.
"You should have seen it," she tells her brother. "8000 men captured. Cornwallis feigned illness to escape the embarassment. Pappa sent Tilghman to inform Congress."
"That is wonderful news, little sister," he says breathlessly.
Y/N frowns when he struggles for his next breath.
She hurries to his side as his coughing fit begins.
Y/N pats his brother's back gently as he coughs into his handkerchief.
Y/N bites her bottom lip, forcing the lump in her throat down.
He was only getting worse.
The doctor was right. Going home was his only chance.
Thankfully, he would be heading out first thing tomorrow morning. Mamma, Nelly and his children would be joining their Uncle Burwell and her young cousin, Fanny.
He finally manages to catch his breath and Y/N slowly lays him down, reaching for the rag nearby and dipping it into the bucket of water.
She wrings it before placing it on his forehead.
Jack looks up at her sister's worried E/C eyes.
"What... what's going to happen with me, Y/N...?" he whispers.
Y/N shakes her head, "Pappa sent word to Uncle Burwell in Eltham. He's agreed to allow you to stay, Jacky. Mamma, Nelly and your little ones will be there."
"And you...?" he asks.
"Pappa and I have some work we need to finish here. We have to sort out the prisoners and see what happens with Congress before figuring out our next move. Our first priority are the prisoners of war purely because of the number."
She sees the growing frown on his face and she runs the back of her fingers across his cheek softly.
"Don't you worry, Jacky. Pappa and I will be there quicker than you can say 'foxhound,'" the corners of her lips quirk upwards slightly.
"Promise...?" his bottom lip quivers slightly.
He looks so much like a child.
So much like the child that Y/N knew for so long before Patsy's death.
She loved her brother dearly and wished she could stay by his side the entire time.
But her duty calls.
All she can do is...
"I promise."
Promise.
》》》》》》
Surprise, bitches. Jacky ain't dead. And this is the end of the Siege of Yorktown! Kinda anticlimactic, but it is what it is.
I'm terribly torn right now in between letting history play its part or changing history for the happier. I mean it when I say I write this shit as I go along.
Also, the British playing 'The World Turn'd Upside Down' is widespread as true, but is most likely not because the first account of it being played was around a century later. But I just had to because 1) Hamilton and 2) it's so fucking fitting.
This chap featured more Washingdad than battle (hell, I don't even think it contained any battle). I just figured y'all need some sad Washingdad and Y/N. I wanted to add more vulnerable George.
By the way, Cornwallis not attending the surrender at Yorktown was actually true. He faked illness, boarded the ship carrying the ill officers, and left the surrender to his right hand, General O'Hara. (Isn't that the guy from the Lorax? Oh no wait, that's O'Hare, I think.) O'Hara, in turn, attempted to surrender his sword (which was a common tradition back then since officers carried sword with them everywhere) to Rochambeau, who refused and directed him to Washington. Washington also refused and directed him to Lincoln, whose troops were forced to surrender in the same undignified way as the British in Yorktown the year before in Charleston.
God, these last couple of chapters took me hours of research to try and get almost everything down to a T. I really hope y'all enjoyed, guys, because this really took a lot outta me.
Anyway, make sure to vote n stuff and I'm gonna go to sleep because it's 4:02 AM.